


Shake the Glitter Off (It’s Only You and Me)

by melon_hearted



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: A bit corny, Alternate Universe - High School, Eyeliner, Katy Perry - Freeform, M/M, Resolved Sexual Tension, School Dances, Unresolved Romantic Tension, X-men First Class
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-08-12 03:37:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7919071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melon_hearted/pseuds/melon_hearted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>High-school AU. Erik and Charles, and the last dance of the school year. </p>
<p>Let you put your hands on me, in my skin-tight jeans,<br/>Be your teenage dream tonight.<br/>-Katy Perry, “Teenage Dream”</p>
<p>And if I kiss you, in the garden, in the moonlight,<br/>Will you pardon me?<br/>And tip-toe through the tulips with me.<br/>-Tiny Tim, “Tiptoe Through the Tulips”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shake the Glitter Off (It’s Only You and Me)

“Do you... think it’s too much?”

It took several seconds for Erik to form a reply.

“No. Um. No. You look fine.”

That was a lie. Charles looked more than fine. Dressed all in black, his outfit was nothing like the baggy cardigans and old-man vests to which his friend had grown accustomed. This outfit was— _tight_. His jeans looked like they’d been painted on, and that shirt was at least two sizes too small. And— 

“Are you wearing _eyeliner_?”

A pretty flush stole across Charles’ face. “Raven did that.” He shrugged. “You know how she is.”

Erik certainly did. “Shall we go, then?” he asked, feeling that it was high time for a change in subject. A safer subject, one that was in no way related to the way Charles’ ass looked in those jeans.

“Right. Excuse me, my friend, of course.” Charles ushered Erik out of the house, shut the door with a snap, and stepped into warm spring night. They clamoured into Erik’s beat-up pick-up truck, and neither boy spoke until they’d pulled into the school’s parking lot.

“Well, are you ready?” Charles flashed his teeth in a brief, warm smile. “Our last high school dance.”

“Might as well get it over with.” Erik pocketed his keys and swung himself out of the car. He just wanted the night to be over as quickly and painlessly as possible. He wouldn’t even have bothered to come if Charles hadn’t spent weeks badgering him about it.

“It will be fun,” he’d said.

“You know it won’t be.”

“It will be an experience.”

“Really, Charles?”

“... Raven made me promise.”

Good Lord. “Fine.”

By the time twenty minutes had passed, all of Erik’s low expectations had come into dark fulfilment. The pounding bass that seemed to be part of every song had already given him a headache, and the punch that someone had apparently spiked with turpentine was making his throat (and lips, and tongue) burn like fire.

And worst of all, he didn’t even have his best friend with him to share his misery. Charles had been dragged off by his crazy sister and her friends almost as soon as he’d walked through the door, and he was too good-natured to object to their sickening cooing over his outfit, or their insistence that he dance with each and every one of them. Erik scowled as he watched Charles swing a tall redhead, Moira he thought her name was, around with a goofy grin on his face. Moira, for her part, just clutched at him and giggled like a thirteen year old girl. 

For God’s sake, it was only eyeliner.

Suddenly, Erik’s mental diatribe was interrupted by a much wilder, frecklier redhead. “Y’know, dude, your face _could_ actually freeze that way,” Sean slurred, plopping down next to Erik and slumping over into his shoulder. “If you’re not careful.”

Luckily for Sean, Hank and Alex also materialized from out of the crowd, and peeled him off before Erik could react. “Sorry, man,” Alex said, as he wrestled with the overly clingy teen. “He drank the punch.”

“Hello, Erik,” said Hank, looking as neat and put-together as if he was arriving for another day of class, not standing on the edge of a heaving mass of sweaty, dancing teenagers. “Where’s Charles?”

The scowl deepened. Erik didn’t say anything; he just jerked his head towards the dance floor.

“Oh.” At that the boys then began a conversation about video games and the Beatles, wisely choosing to leave Erik to stew. 

After an indeterminate amount of time spent trying to burn a hole in the floor with his eyes, Erik felt a much more familiar touch to his shoulder. He glanced up and Charles was there, looking at him. His eyeliner was smudged, and his eyes shone fever-bright in the dim room, but he wore the same kind smile as always. His mouth was moving, but Erik couldn’t hear his voice over the music. Still, he rose obediently when Charles tugged at him, and followed him out into the balmy June night.

“What’s wrong?”Erik demanded, as soon as they were free of the noise. Everything had seemed fine just a few minutes ago. Not that Erik had been watching him.

Charles was breathing hard, and sweat shone on his face. He flapped a hand in Erik’s general direction. “Don’t worry,” he huffed. “I just got a little, ah, overwhelmed.”

Erik raised an eyebrow.

“No, really. I just thought it would be nice to sit out here with you for a bit.” So they sat on the curb in easy silence, enjoying the warmth of the night and the brightness of the full moon that shone down on them. Erik passed the time by lighting a cigarette, and tried not to notice the way Charles’ shirt clung to muscles that were hidden under his usual clothing.

Charles was the one to eventually break the silence. “We could go back inside,” he suggested.

Erik blew out a stream of smoke. “I’d rather not. It was a shitty dance.”

That made Charles laugh. “Well, it could have been a lot worse, I suppose.” He bumped Erik’s shoulder. “You weren’t dancing.”

Erik didn’t even bother to roll his eyes. “I didn’t want to.”

“Oh, come, come.” Sometimes, Erik suspected that his best friend was actually seventy years old. “You can’t go to the last dance of our senior year and just sit around. In fact—” Charles was on his feet in an instant, and thrust a hand out at him imperiously.

“You have got to be joking.”

“You know I’m not. Dance with me.”

Erik ground out his cigarette and stood, but only because Charles would never leave him alone if he didn’t. He could be like a dog with a bone, sometimes. Still, Erik couldn’t give in without a fight. “There’s no music,” he pointed out, knowing in his heart that it wouldn’t stop his insane friend.

He was right. All it did was prompt Charles to grin mischievously and break into a rather off-key rendition of the latest Katy Perry nonsense. Then he began to jump along to the sound of his own voice, and whacked Erik on the shoulder until he, too, began to move along with to the 'music'. For a long time, the only sounds were Charles’ voice warbling into the night, and the thumping of their feet on the pavement.

Eventually Charles tired of singing. So he dropped his arms and grabbed Erik’s shoulders, hauling him in close until they were chest-to-chest, their feet bumping with every step. He began to sway, humming a new tune in a throaty voice.

Erik stiffened, and tried to back away. Charles wouldn’t let him. “Charles—”

“Relax, Erik. We need a slow song, too.” Charles smiled up at him disarmingly. “I won’t let you go until it’s done.”

So, Erik resigned himself to holding his best friend in his arms as they moved gently together on the sidewalk. This close, he couldn’t ignore the heat radiating through Charles’ t-shirt, or the way the moonlight created new planes and shadows on his familiar face. Now, Erik could not deny that Charles was beautiful, and the realization made his heat beat faster. 

The humming died away as Charles watched him. His eyes were far too knowing. “Erik,” he whispered, “why wouldn’t you dance in there?”

Erik didn’t speak. Instead he lowered his head, and pressed his lips firmly against Charles own. It was a hungry kiss, and Charles couldn’t help but moan brokenly into it when he felt Erik’s hands slide down to _finally_ cup his ass in those skin-tight jeans.

Erik pulled away, just far enough to murmur against Charles slick mouth. “Because,” he whispered, “out of all the people in there, the only one I want in my arms is _you_.”

**Author's Note:**

> Written nearly five years ago. Title from "Waking Up In Vegas" by Katy Perry. I'd like to thank Ms. Perry for all the inspiration she provided to my 2011 self.


End file.
